If Only The Heart Could Speak
by writtendaydreams
Summary: Annabeth Chase is a maid at a five star hotel. Percy Jackson is a young politician running for mayor of New York City. One day, they meet and sparks fly. Nothing can stop love, right? Maybe, but, the thing is, Percy has no clue that Annabeth is a maid. How will their love survive when Percy has no idea who she really is?
1. Men in Elevators and Bitches in Suites

_Annabeth Chase is a maid at a five star hotel. Percy Jackson is a young politician running for Mayor of New York City. One day, they meet and sparks fly. Nothing can stop love, right? Maybe, but, the thing is, Percy has no clue that Annabeth is a maid. How will their love survive when Percy has no idea who she really is? Based only slightly off the movie Maid in Manhattan. I do not own the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series and I did not create Maid in Manhattan. Will not be exactly like the movie._

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_To warn you all, I'm not good at writing in first person, so bare with me here. I'll say that Annabeth is not OOC. It's just my bad attempt at writing in first person. My apologies. I will try my best. Reviewers get virtual cookies ;-) And please don't favorite or alert unless you review._

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**Rated T for sexual references and language.**

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"Annabeth! They need you in room 500!" Piper calls to me from the bathrooms. Her voice sounds funny because she has a clothes pin pinched on her nose. I wear the same thing too. I'm not doing too much better. The people who used the beds last night must have had a good time because I was gagging as I gathered them up.

"What? I'm not done with this room. I. Have. To. Finish. The couple is coming back tonight. What was their names? Silena and Charles? That couple from France?" I throw the sheets in the basket.

"Well, that's what Chiron told me to tell you. I quote: 'At 7:00 PM have Miss Chase go down to room 500.' Apparently, a person asked for you personally. Good luck," Piper says. "Oh, and take these flowers to the room, too." I walk over and take the bouquet flowers and I will admit that they are really large. I can't even see where I'm going so I peak through the leaves.

"Yay," I say sarcastically.

"Eh, it'll be okay," she says.

"Yeah," I say. "Sure it will."

"Thanks, Piper," I tell her as I walk out the door.

The hotel hallways are like a labyrinth. Terribly confusing, I must say. I take the elevator to the fiftieth floor and wait.

At about the twelfth floor, someone stepped in the elevator.

"Yes, yes, I know! I'm sorry. I'm here at the hotel. Well, no—! But, I—! Never mind! There's no arguing with you. I'll be there in a half an hour. Nope. No. NO SOONER, THALIA!" The man shouts at his phone. He angrily touches the screen to end the call.

"Damn, Thalia. When I'm late, I'm late. There's nothing you can do about it," the man mutters under his breath and then he seems to notice me. I notice (through the leaves) that he's wearing a black suit with nice dress shoes. I can see that he has sparkling green eyes like the sea. And for a second, green eyes meets grey. I feel a spark. Butterflies flutter around in my stomach and my heart does a gymnastics routine. I can't explain it. It's kind of like a spark. In fact, it _is _a spark.

"Oh, sorry. You didn't have to see—I mean hear—that," he says turning to me, but I still have the large bouquet covering my face. I blush and realize that he's talking about the phone call. "It was just my assistant Thalia. She's annoying as ever sometimes."

"That's fine. I see angry people all the time." Then I notice that I still have the clothes pin on clamped around my nose. _Shit, _I think. I don't even have a free hand to take it off.

Anyone could tell he is startled at my voice.

"You okay, there?" he asks me.

"Yeah. I have a clothespin on my nose— the smell," I say. My voice sounds even worse. Great.

"Why do you . . . ? Oh." He seems to notice my outfit.

Great multiplied by two.

Silence.

Finally my stop. And apparently his too.

We both bump into each other from the side. I almost drop the flower vase. That would have been bad.

"Oh, sorry," we both say in unison.

"Here, go first," he tells me and I rush off (almost falling on my face along the way) to room 500.

Apparently, he's going the same direction because I hear footsteps behind me.

I get to room 500 and realize that I can't open the door. No free hands, but there Mr. Save Annabeth From Breaking the Flower Vase comes and opens the door for me. I hear him turn around and go in the suite across the hall.

"Th—thanks," I stutter awkwardly and rush inside, shutting the door behind he with my foot.

That was a bad idea because I lose my balance and fall on my face. And—perfect for me—the glass hits the tile and shatters.

"Great job, Chase. Good to know that the same qualities you had in high school stuck around."

My guts twist around at the sound of her voice.

A voice I haven't head since graduation day. Drew Tanaka.

"Look at what the cat dragged in."

I shakily stood and walked outside where a cart was and pulled out a broom. I sweep up the glass, put it in a bag, set it to the side, gather the flowers, set them on the table and do my job.

"Hello, Miss Drew Tanaka. I apologize for the inconvenience. I will get a new vase for you next time I visit your room. By the way, I am Annabeth Chase and I will be your maid for your stay at this wonderful five star hotel," I say. My voice is still high-pitched with the clothes pin. _You will not look good in a prison jumpsuit, you will not look good in a prison jumpsuit, _I tell myself in my head to keep calm. I could care less about my looks, but it's the only thing that keeps me from strangling Drew.

"Well, hello, Annabeth Chase. Nice to see you again! It looks like you haven't changed much." She surveyes me, examining me from head to toe.

I have to restrain myself from saying, "But you do! More implants or is it a nose job?"

Instead I say, "What would you like me to get started on first?"

"Nothing, currently. I just want to make sure . . . you know your place when I'm around."

"That's fine," I say.

"Okay. You may leave."

And I do, with the little dignity I have left.

I stand outside her door, rip the clothes pin off my nose and walk away thinking about the man in the elevator.

**Hello again. Did you like it? Should I continue this? I don't know if it's good or not. Please tell me in review. AND PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW. I hope you liked it and for the people who have been following my stories before this one this is an alert: ** I can explain my name. It's a long story, but keep reading if you're interested. I was born Isabella Simone, but I always hated my name so I went by different ones over the years. Luna, Clarity, Andy, Reina. (I told you Reina at first, because I didn'Until I saw the name Lucy and I stuck with that one for a long time. I actually started to believe my name was Lucy because I'd used it for so long. (Don't judge me. I'm perfectly sane.) Now that I'm starting a new grade next year. I'd like to start over by going by full and complete name: Isabella. So please, I deeply apologize for the name confusion. I hate my name-Isabella-still, but I'd like to start going by it.

**REVIEW AND YOU WILL BE ON MY AWESOME PEOPLE LIST. **


	2. I Lie For a Child's Birthday Party

_I couldn't find the name of the area where all of the hotel workers go and where the managers do their job and where the security guard watches all of the video feed from the video cameras. Believe me, I searched, but I still couldn't find the name. Maybe it doesn't even have name, anyway, I'm just going to call it the Basement. I am aware that Lacy is OOC, but I had to kind of make her that way to fit the situation._

_Next, did anybody hear how Calypso will be appearing later on in the Heroes of Olympus series? I was like, "What the bleep!" I literally said bleep out loud. Then Rick Riordan said that he actually got teary-eyed while writing a scene in the Mark of Athena. Oh shit, we all know what that means: someone's going to die. Next, he said that Annabeth and Percy's grey streaks from holding up the sky for Atlas will be mentioned in the Mark of Athena! Crazy! This is all on his blog._

_Okay, I want to tell you that this is a romance fic so it's going to focus on love and stuff so it might seem OOC, but it's not. That's my number one fear. Like, in the HoO series, it's all "we're going to have to save the world while getting the girl (or boy)" Then this story is all "I love you Percy. I love you Annabeth and stuff" so its not going to be exactly like the books. Just warning you all._

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"What was that all about?" Piper asks as I step into the locker room.

"Drew wanted me to _know my place_," I say sitting down beside her.

"You're kidding, right? Drew? The girl who used to torture us in high school? That bitch! God, what are we— Wait? You said that she wanted you to know your place? She needs mental help. And if Drew is here then that means . . . NO WAY! Rachel can't be here either . . . !" And the Piper starts to babble on and I stop listening. Piper is a girl that you might describe as beautiful, but she cuts her hair with the tiny sewing scissors that we use to fix the sheet threads. She's totally tom-boy.

I walk off to bathrooms and splash my face with water and secure my pony tail again. I try to stay calm and breathe in and out. My thoughts keep wondering back to the man in the elevator. He seems like a nice man other than yelling at his assistant, but I can understand that. His assistant seemed persistent. I wouldn't blame him. I couldn't tell if he was handsome or not, but I could tell that he had beautiful sea green eyes. But, then again, Rachel has green eyes, but hers are more like snakes. But, then _again_, Rachel made a truce with me at graduation, so I can't hate her.

I walk out of bathrooms. Piper is still babbling.

"Hey, Piper?"

"Yeah?"

"I got to go. See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow. Annabeth."

I walk outside into the cold, New York March night. Everywhere is buzzing with activity and I'm not surprised. They don't call this city "the city that never sleeps" for nothing.

I take a bus to East Harlem, where I live.

I do my best to keep the house looking as neat at possible. It's hard because I'm almost always never home. I just use the house to sleep in. I collapse on the couch momentarily.

I take a deep breath thinking about my day, the young man in the elevator and my life. Yeah, to be honest, my life hasn't been great the last few years. I went to college, but no architect firm would take me. I tried, honestly, but my efforts were well wasted because I'm twenty-four now. Then my thoughts wander to the man in the elevator. I remember the last time I saw vibrant green eyes like his— but, no. It couldn't be the same person. Impossible. I wonder what his name is, but I'll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out. It shouldn't matter to me; I'm too busy to even think about having a relationship. I sigh. I wish I knew the name of the man I got caught up with a few years ago. It was my twenty-first birthday when I met him. I don't remember his face, just our talk. It was just a one night stand, but he took my heart.

Enough of all that crap, I want to sleep. So I do.

I wake up to pounding on my door. Puzzled, I groggily sit up and answer the door. It's Piper. "What are you doing here?" I ask. She rolls her eyes and it takes me a minute to remember that she lives next door to me.

"Oh," I yawn. "Um—"

"We're late, Annabeth!" She's yelling at me right now.

"Shit—"

"Well, don't say 'shit' to me. I'm guessing you're ready?" Piper surveys me.

"Um, well, you woke me up."

"Let's just go."

I'm fine with that. We walk outside and I lock my door. Running towards our bus stop, I see a sign on a bench seat that reads, VOTE PERCY JACKSON FOR YOUR NEXT AND BEST NEW YORK CITY MAYOR. Then there's a picture of a man with black hair and a tan, but his eyes are what get me. The same eyes from the man in the elevator.

"He's good-looking," Piper says. I shake my head at her while I examine more of the picture.

"I thought you have a boyfriend, Piper?"

"He's not my boyfriend! He has a girlfriend," Piper says defensively.

"Go out with Leo, then, if Jason has a girlfriend," I suggest.

"The repair guy at our work? No. I don't even like him."

"I was just suggesting." I look at the corner of the sign. It says in tiny print: PHOTO BY THALIA GRACE."

"Hey, isn't Thalia Jason's sister?" I ask Piper.

"Well, yeah, she works for Percy Jackson that . . . oh," she seems to realize what I'm talking about. I mentally face-palm.

"Yeah. Now, come on Piper, let's get to the bus stop before we miss our bus."

"Hey, hey, hey, it's you that wanted to stop and . . ." I stop listening. We step onto the bus and make our way to work. We get here and I start to panic. If Mr. D, the owner of the hotel, finds out that we're late, there's a good chance that he'll fire us before we can beg for mercy and buy his favorite bottle of wine. Nice gift to get a recovering alcoholic.

We walk in to the Basement and Jason Grace walks up to us. He's wearing his normal bellhop outfit—a white outfit with gold buttons running down the side of it. It has too many tassels for me to count. His hair is messed up like he was just attacked by a really angry person, but his blue eyes still gleam brightly like the sky. And I have to say he is looking ruggedly handsome. No wonder Piper is head over heels for this guy.

"Hey, guys, get on to your stations! I clocked you both in—"

"You can get fired for that," I point out.

"—and I got Reyna and Lacy to cover your morning rooms for you. Thank me later, okay?"

"What happened to you?" Piper asked looking at his hair.

"I carried a lot of bags for Silena Beauregard-Beckendorf this morning. Now, go meet up with Lacy and Reyna and trade spots. Hurry!" He ushers us.

We pass the security man named Hermes (the guys call him Herpes behind his back) who watches the video feed. He's kind and funny, but a little nutty because, allegedly he has two snakes at home named Martha and George. I don't ask. "Hey, girls," Hermes says. It's ironic because he always has a mysterious glint in his eyes like he just pick pocketed you and is waiting for you to notice when his job is to watch out for thieves.

"Morning, Hermes," I say as I pass by. By, this point we're running to pick up our outfits. We grab them quickly and change in the locker room. When we get out, I pass the staff room.

I see Leo fixing the staff's refrigerator. He has his tool belt out and has a wrench and some screw drivers sprawled out on the floor. I see him fixing the 'frig almost every week. I think he got so used to fixing the 1980's appliance he calls it his favorite job of the week.

"Another leak, but I'm still fixing it. Every. God. Damn. Week," he says as we hurry by him. He has a curly mop of dark brown hair and a glint in his eye like Hermes. He has a knack for fixing things, so he's very handy here. Well, more than a knack, that's why Mr. D hired him. Apparently, his father works for another hotel in the Bronx. He stands up and kicks it.

"Kicking things when they won't work: that's a very useful technique."

"Well, it's my technique, Annabeth," he says. "I'm finally done. I've been working on that since before everyone was here." Leo gives it another kick—probably for good luck, but all it does is leave a small puddle of water again. I resist the urge to laugh.

"Don't. Say. Another. Word." Leo gets down on his knees and starts over again.

Once Piper and I are in the elevator, we both start laughing. "You told him too!" Piper laughs.

"Yes," I sigh. "I did."

As we go down the hallway, I spot Frank, one of the butlers on my floor, walk into room 500.

"Hey, Frank!" I call. "Tell me if you need any help with her. She's a tough one."

"Thanks, Annabeth. I will," says Frank.

We get to our spots and meet up with Lacy and Reyna. Lacy has light blonde hair in braids; she was sweet and beautiful like Piper. Reyna is strict and just as pretty. She's Jason's boyfriend—something Piper doesn't like. We get along well; people say we are alike each other. She has dark hair and dark piercing eyes. They are in one of the closets, hanging up freshly steam-cleaned clothes.

"Oh, hello," Reyna says, "Chiron wanted me to tell you that he switched both of your schedules, but just for today. Piper—you're with me and Annabeth—you're with Lacy. You guys even missed the instructions that Chiron gave us this morning, but, luckily for you, he wrote them on a piece of paper for me to give to you. Here is what it reads: Drew Tanaka, the socialite is staying here for a ball next week. She likes lavender, so make sure to put that in her room. Percy Jackson is staying here with his assistant and his publicist for a campaign in New York. He's staying across the hall from Drew Tanaka and next to Jamie Cray. We are currently in Jamie Cray's room now.

"Jamie Cray and Percy Jackson have a set up lunch for them at noon. Chiron says they have never met, but since Cray does a lot of charity work, going on a few dates would be a good image for Percy," Reyna continues reading from the paper.

"And Percy Jackson has this large dog named Mrs. O'Leary. So, be prepared for that," Reyna finishes.

"That's fine," I say as I get to work with sheets again.

Piper and Reyna give each other rueful glances and walk out the room, leaving Lacy and me in the room alone. "I'll do the bathroom and you'll do the sheets," I tell her and she nods.

Lacy goes to straighten out the closet and she does until she gasps and calls me to her. "Annabeth, come here."

I stand by her and she pulls out a nice Dolce outfit, clearly for a female.

"Try it on," Lacy urges. "It's your size. Just do it. It would look perfect on you—!"

But I'm not having it.

"No, no, no. What are you talking about? Why would you—? No—!" I yell, but she cuts me off.

"Please, please, please! You have to! Just—!"

"No, Lacy, no."

"Please, please. I'll take your shifts tomorrow, so you can drop Matt and Bobby off at the party they want to go to. I remember you telling Piper that you couldn't take them because Mr. D wouldn't give you the rest of the day off! You have to!"

She has me here. I love Matt and Bobby, the children I babysit, but I have to do my job. Then again, the offer sounds really good. All I have to do is just try it on and I get to take my two favorite kids to the birthday party they've been wanting to go to for weeks now. It wasn't a bad offer, but trying on a neglected outfit of some stranger was something I couldn't even do.

"No," I say. "No, no, no and finally no."

"Ah, alas we have found the one thing Annabeth Chase couldn't do: put on some $5,000 dollar fabric."

"That's the point! It's five-thousand dollars! If anything happens to it, this Cray person could sue me for a lot more," I say.

"Nothing's going to make me change my opinion. Nope. Nothing at all, Lacy!" I'm getting upset.

"So, Annabeth's giving up and saying no for Matt and Bobby's party. They're going to hate you," she says. At this point, I'm tired of hearing her and just surrender.

"Fine, Lacy, fine. But, I can't get fired. I'm still saving up for college. I can't afford to be fired," I warn her. I snatch the outfit and put it on angrily. When I finish I stand and look in the mirror. Of course, I don't think I look or feel any different, maybe a little bit fancier.

The door opens and the only thought that goes through my head is, _you're fucked, Annabeth._

There stands a man, about my age with black hair, he's wearing a nice suit and dress shoes, he has a dog on a leash and now I that I notice it, the dog is really large. Then I see his sea green eyes and instantly remember him. The man from the elevator stands in front of me, but now, he's not scolding his assistant over the phone.

"Whoa, sorry," he says. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, no, no. I was just . . ." My voice faltered.

"No? Okay, well, you're Jamie right?" Percy Jackson asks. His dog pulls on his restraints. Percy almost let go and I have a feeling that wouldn't be a good outcome for this suite.

"I'm—um . . . yes, I'm Jamie," I lie and I hate it. I shouldn't be lying, but what else can I do without sounding like I'm insane. Like I'm going to say, 'Hi, I'm just that maid in the elevator that you met with the weird voice and I'm trying on some persons clothes that you were supposed to have a date with. Yeah, don't mind me.'

Yeah, no, that wouldn't work out at all.

He steps forward to shake my hand, "Jackson. Percy Jackson."

I hesitantly step forward, "Cray. Jamie Cray." We meet eyes again and I get that strange feeling in my stomach, like a washing machine on rinse cycle. Romantic right? We shake hands.

"I don't wanna be stuck in here, maybe we can go outside? Take a walk in Central Park? I'd like that," he says way too casually. He's supposed to be a politician. I always thought politicians were uptight, but his demeanor was kind.

"Uh, sure. She'd love that," Lacy answers for me.

I whisper in Lacy's ear, "Where is the real Jamie Cray? This is her date!"

"I don't know. Maybe she forgot?" Lacy whispers back.

"Are you ready?" Percy asks restraining Mrs. O' Leary once more

"Uh, yes, I am."

"Let's go then!" I walk up and try to open the door for him, but he reaches for the knob at the same time.

"Oh, uh, sorry," I say. He opens the door for me and we both walk out. I turn and give Lacy a hateful glare one last time. I have a strange urge to take Percy's hand, as if I've done it before, but I don't and we keep walking. I put on the cream colored sunglasses, trying to cover my face from the video cameras.

This is going to be a very long day.

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_I was going to go further, but I realized that I'm almost at 3,000 words and that is way too long for my taste. Sorry about grammar, spelling, punctuation and the present tense thing. I've read this over and over again, but I could have missed something. If you feel the need to point it out, you are welcome to. I'm reading the TLO over again so I can stay in character. Please review and here's the awesome peoples list for the last chapter._

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_Awesome People List:_

**Athenas Demigod Daughter**- Thanks for being the first reviewer and I sure hope so!

**Aariya**- Thank you and I will work on that spark

**annabethrules120**- thanks :-)

**gelaiaceee08**- Yes! I love that movie. I have to watch it over and over again while I'm writing

**MythologyNerdxDemiGod**- First, I love your username. Second, thanks, I do hope its going in the right direction. I will update ASAP

**Danielle21**- I love OMB. I'm going to use that from now on! Thank you

**sasaway**- I hope you're a fortuneteller! Because I would love that :-)

**Lexia Daughter of Athena**- thanks :-)

**Chenoamisae**- Yes, it is hard seeing Percy like that, but I'm trying to keep him in character and such. Thalia will not be his cousin. I am trying to make Drew mean so yeah she'll be bitchy.

_**Please review! **_


	3. Dates In My Own Neighborhood

_Yes, I realize Seven Seas Inc. is cliché. And, I know my whos and whoms, but I got stuck with a sentence in this chapter, so I'm giving you a heads-up. Another thing: I don't live in New York City so everything on here is guesswork, research and Google Maps. Don't go all mean on me if I get something wrong. I live on the complete other side of the country. Another thing: I don't know the age of Matt and Bobby, but I want them to be really young anyways._

_P.S: I'm not too happy with this chapter._

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"So, are you from New York?" Percy asks me once they were in Central Park. A crowd of reporters had surrounded us when we walked out of the lobby. I tried to hide my face, but the paparazzi kept calling me Jamie Cray and it took me a second to realize that I might look like her a bit. Percy had pushed them aside as if it was no big deal and we walked to the park.

That question that he just asked me was the best one he's asked. The first twenty minutes were terrible (with awkward conversation starts, ends, and silences).

When I don't respond, Percy repeats his question. I have no idea where Jamie Cray is from. I gulp and look at him skeptically. His hair is messy and his eyes are playful; they contradict his social and political position which I find odd. He's so casual and normal. I mean, they have to be casual if they want to win voters, but his casual was different. Like he actually has something genuine to smile about . . . or he's just plain goofy. I can't tell. He was smiling into the first five minutes then I bet he figured that our conversation wasn't going anywhere so the smile faded. This whole ordeal makes me wish he would smile that lopsided smile and loosen the tension again.

We walk by a woman who's jogging with a baby in a stroller, she smiles at us and keeps jogging, but I'm pretty sure she was just smiling at the man next to me.

I have no choice but to tell him _my _own home, "I was born in Virginia, but I moved to New York when I was young."

"Oh, well . . ." His speech drifts off.

"I would ask you about politics, but to be honest I know nothing about that. I'm a—"

Crap, I almost said 'maid.'

"Don't worry, I barely know anything myself," he says.

"Aren't you running for mayor?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Forty-five percent of Americans enjoy their work," I say. "Just like to divert the Manicouagan River while making the Daniel-Johnson Dam, workers blasted and dug two thousand feet long and forty-five feet diameter tunnels through the gorge's solid granite west wall."

Confusion crosses his face for a moment, but then he says, "Forty-five and forty-five. I see the connection. I'm guessing you like smart stuff like that? Oh and I'm in the other fifty percent of Americans that do not like their jobs."

"Don't worry, Percy, I don't like my job either," I say.

"But, I thought you didn't work?" Confusion passes over his face once more. His brows are furrowed and . . . he looks kind of cute. I will admit that he's good looking, but he's a little too casual for me. God, I've never really had to lie like this before. Much less have something to hide. How did I get myself into this mess anyway? Lacy, oh, Lacy. You're dead, I think. It doesn't help that I have no socializing skills whatsoever. The only people I talk to on a daily basis are Piper, Matt and Bobby—that's pathetic for a twenty-four year old capable person. Oh and there's my banker and Matt and Bobby's mother, but then again, I don't have any friends outside of work. This is my first interaction with someone since three years ago, since the man at the bar.

"I mean, I sometimes don't like doing nothing. Most of the time I wish I was an architect," I say.

"Oh, so that's where that random fact sprouted from," he laughs and I manage a smile.

"Why did you become a politician if you don't like it?" I say.

Percy twists his lips in a sour face, "My father runs the company Seven Seas Inc. If you didn't know, we transport house parts to America from Greece for Olympus Architecture run by that person named Athena something. I can't remember her last name, but, yeah, that's what my dad does."

"I asked you why you became a politician," I say.

"And I was getting to that part. I just wanted to fill you in if you didn't know."

"Well, I did know," I say with attitude. To be honest, I didn't know until he told me now, but I will not admit that to him.

"I couldn't just tell you? It wouldn't hurt to listen even if you did know!"

"Excuse me, who's the . . ." I was about to say 'who's the genius here?' but that will not make sense because he went to college. I didn't. He's a politician. I'm a maid.

"Sorry," he says.

"It's okay," I say awkwardly.

"You know, for someone who goes to parties for a living, you're not good at socializing," he says. I huff and cross my arms.

Before I can respond he says, "I have an idea where we could go that's way better than Central Park."

"Yeah? Where?" I raise an eyebrow and smile at him.

"You'll have to wait until we get there," he says raising an eyebrow back.

"Seems interesting."

"I'm an interesting person."

"Sure you are. You just love to wear suits and dress shoes because it's the most interesting outfit ever," I say sarcasm.

"Hey, if it was, my choice I'd opt for my favorite orange tee-shirt and some jeans."

"Hey, me too."

"I think we finally found something in common, other than being multi-millionaires," Percy says with a smile and mine fades slowly. He notices it and says, "But, of course, money doesn't matter when it comes to love." At the mention of love, I give him a blank stare, but his eyes are killing me. I notice that he's exactly as tall as I am. About five foot ten, both of us are standing to the side of little walk way blushing like crazy. Idiot, I think, but I don't know who I'm directing it to.

I cover it up by saying, "So, where is this first place that you're talking about?"

"East Harlem. Let's go," he says and he instinctively reaches for my hand. Automatically my hand twitches and I reach for it, but I pull back realizing what I did.

"Oh," his face flushes red as a tomato. "I'm sorry. It's automatic. I just feel like I've done this before with you, but I haven't because I've never met you until now . . ."

"It's, uh, okay Percy," I say. We walk out of the park and to a bus stop.

"You're okay with riding the bus? Have you ever ridden one before?" I say before stepping on the bus.

"Yes, Jamie, you do know that there was a time where I didn't have as much money as I had today?"

I cringe at the name. "Yes, of course."

"I grew up with a mom who couldn't really support me—"

"And your multi-million dollar dad?"

"He definitely wasn't worth any million dollars to me. Paul is, but my father is my father, so I guess he's worth something," he says.

"Who's Paul?" I ask.

"Tell you later. Anyway, my dad wasn't always around. In fact he was never around until I was twelve, but I know he loved me because she visited me once when I was a baby. So he left my mother to support me on her own and she even married some God-awful guy that had money to keep me safe. His name was Gabe. When I was twelve, he went to garden gnome emporium and never came back. I was glad, he was a terrible guy. To this day I'm glad that he's gone. When I got a little older, my mom remarried and that time she was happy. Well, in short, my dad visited me three years school and gave me a job opportunity—to gain the hearts of New York City, gain power, and to become mayor of New York City so he could gain more house parts to ship," Percy finishes.

"Why did you take the offer?" I say.

"He made me a promise that . . . Never mind. The point is I rode the bus all the time."

"I grew up in a foster home," I say being totally honest.

"Oh, that sucks." Percy stands up, when the bus stops. "This is our stop, Ms. Cray."

I smile as I stand up and head off the bus. Percy follows.

"Where from here?" I ask.

"Follow me," he says. I turn and follow him and for once, I slip off the sunglasses and put hand them on the edge of the pants. He looks back and stops. His breath hitches and we make full-on eye-contact. Green meets grey and I get that strange feeling in my stomach again.

"You have grey eyes . . . No, not possible . . ." He looks at me skeptically. Suddenly, his brow un-furrows and he smiles as if nothing happened. "You ready?" I'm nervous that he knows I'm the maid from the elevator, but I have a feeling he's a bad liar so I would know if he knows.

"We're not jumping off a cliff or robbing any banks right?" I ask.

"No, why would you ask that," he says genuinely smiling like our conversation was amusing.

"Come on!" I look at my watch and realize that we've been out for over an hour. I really hope Cray is doing something else. I open my mouth to say that we need to go back to the hotel, but nothing comes out. I follow him down into my neighborhood.

We walk past shops and come to little shop; it looks dirty and tore-up. I look at Percy, he shrugs and walks inside.

It's an ice cream shop—cute, decorated with green and grey paint. Steel tables lined the walls and a man stands behind the counter where there are various flavors of ice cream to choose from.

"An ice cream shop. You bring your date to an ice cream shop?"

"It's good ice cream."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," I say.

"What would you like to have today?" The man who asks us has brown hair and blue eyes. He has a mischievous smile like Hermes. I look at Percy who is already ordering.

"Blue bubble gum with gummy bears," Percy says. The guy looks at me.

"Plain vanilla—" I start to say, but Percy cuts me off.

"No, she'll have vanilla, but with chocolate and caramel syrup and Reese's and Kit-Kats along with Snicker," Percy tells the man and he nods get on our orders.

"What was that?" I say.

"What?"

"You just jacked my order!"

"Your order needed to be jacked. _Vanilla, _really, Jamie?"

"I'm sorry for liking vanilla—"

"Plain vanilla," Percy corrects. I frown at him and the guy slides our ice cream to us, Percy pays and we sit down.

"Hold up! Before you eat I want to warn you that this is the best ice cream in New York City," he says.

"Oh, really? I'll be the judge of that," I say taking a bite of the ice cream and I must say it's really good, but I can barely chew it with all the toppings.

"You are such a hypocrite," I say taking another bite.

"Why?"

"Why? Because you got me this over the top order and you got a topping of _gummy bears_," I say.

He doesn't say anything and we just eat. _What am I doing here_, I think. I can't do this anymore. This is insane. Crazy and God, is this all worth a birthday party?

"We should really get back," I stand up and throw my finished ice cream cup in the trash.

"Wait—why?"

"I have to get back. I have a press conference and I just need to get back."

. . .

"Wait, wait, Jamie!" We're both standing in the lobby, parting ways; I told him I had to go to meet a friend somewhere else in the hotel. "I think you're going to Blind Center's Benefit, right? I'll see you there!" Percy walks away and looks back one time, he smiles and waves. I wave back and run into the basement, when he turns his back. Clarisse who runs the concierge desk looks at me and rolls her eyes. I roll mine back at her and go down the stairs. I run into the dressing room where Piper is and she looks at me with wide eyes.

"What the hell are you wearing?"

"I did something horrible, Piper," I sit down in front of my locker beside her.

"Did you kill someone?"

"NO!" I yell undressing myself from the five thousand dollar clothing.

"Then, what did you do?" Piper has stopped undressing herself and is staring at me. It occurs to me that she might be afraid for me. I remember when she stole a car when she was fifteen.

"I . . . I impersonated Jamie Cray." I wait for her response. Then her eyes wander to the outfit in my hands. She looks sick.

"Oh my God, Annabeth. What—Why?"

"Lacy told me if I tried on her clothes that she'd take my shifts while I took Matt and Bobby to a birthday party—"

"Are you crazy, Annabeth?"

"And then Mr. Jackson walked in ready for Jamie's date with him. I kind of took her place for the last few hours—"

"Annabeth, Jamie could be in her room right now and reporting you and Lacy or waiting for her date _that she already had_!"

"Quiet, Piper," I say. I look in my locker and see my uniform in there, hanging up neatly on the metal hook. Lacy must have dropped it off. I take it off the hook and put it on. I take a deep breath while Piper stares at me like I'm a maniac.

I put the clothes neatly in a plastic bag and go to the elevator. Piper follows. Her face looks stern, but still beautiful. Her eyes are a blue today (they seem to change color by the day, but I know it's just the light) and her hair is still in braids. She stands tall, but I'm a good two inches ahead of her.

We stand quiet in the elevator. When the door opens I practically run down the hall and use my card to open her door. Inside, I find . . . nothing. No one's here.

"No one's here," Piper says.

"Where is she?" I wonder aloud.

"God, I don't know."

I neatly put the clothes back into the closet and carefully look them over for marks or dirt, but there's nothing. I sigh and sink to the floor.

"I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," I say.

"Hey, you do kind of look like Jamie Cray. Maybe he won't notice," Piper suggests and sits down beside me.

"Piper, the guy is goofy, not stupid."

"We'll have to go off of luck then," she says standing up. I pull myself up and together we walk out of Cray's room and into the elevator.

. . .

Every Friday, Chiron lets the people who have put the most effort into their work in the past week go home a few hours early. Of course, it's Piper and me (despite us being really late) this week along with Frank and Hazel. I leave the building and walk outside.

I take a subway to Matt and Bobby's apartment. When I walk in the door, they jump on me and I pull them into a hug.

"Mommy! Annabeth's here!" They run over to her. She's wearing a nice dress and heels; she's Asian and has red highlights. She's kind and a little rude, too, but she pays me well. Ever since her husband died she's been trying to find a job—I'm guessing she's going in for either a date or an interview. I wasn't there to meet her husband, but I can tell he's missed. Frederick—I think his name was.

"Ready, Annabeth? I won't be back until late tonight, so don't worry," she says giving her twins a kiss on the forehead.

"That's fine ma'am," I say.

. . .

Matt and Bobby are good kids so, naturally, they fall asleep at 8:15. I turn on the television and . . . perfect.

"_This afternoon, Percy Jackson was spotted leaving his hotel with a socialite named Jamie Cray. She's known for doing charity work all around America, but the seeing the pair together is a strange sight, seeing that they come from different backgrounds." _

There's a picture of me in Jamie Cray's clothes along with Percy then another picture pops up and shows Jamie this time. It shows her digging the first dig of a hospital that she opened up. I lean forward on the couch.

Oh God. I _do _look like her, but my—

"_Will, doesn't her nose look a little bit smaller in the photo taken recently today?"_

"_She might have gotten a nose job, Kayla," the journalist named Will says._

"_That's what it looks like—"_

I switch off the television right as Matt and Bobby's mom walks in. She smiles and pays me. I leave.

. . .

It's dark outside and I pull on my tan cardigan over my tee shirt. Wind blows and people surround me—walking and talking, yelling, stepping on gum, hailing cabs. I just turn a corner when a homeless man asks for change. I give him a few quarters, he says thank you and I keep walking. I'm tired and it doesn't at all make sense why Jamie wasn't there. Maybe she was feeding homeless children or helping some dying woman. I hope that's what she was doing because if she remembers the date or Percy mentions it to her . . . I should just quit my job while I have any dignity left, but I can't quit my job. I wouldn't have any money to support myself. I'll have to wait and see.

A few steps from my door I hear groaning. I jog a few more steps to my doorway and on the steps groaning is Jamie Cray with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in her hand.

Holy shit, what did I do?

_Yeah, I don't like this chapter at all. I feel that it's not my best and I'm worried about OOC-ness. I love the feedback. _

**Okay, Awesome People List:**

**Clove's Knife- **Hahahaha. Thanks :-)

**Aariya- **Thank you. Pretty much all romance is cliché. Well, some of it. Thank you for pointing that out so I can fix it.

**hambakhachana- **Oh, I hope so :-)

**A.S. Ledie (Chapter one) - **Alrighty ;-) I will (Thanks Aariya)! Haha, yes, thanks for reviewing! **(Chapter two)- ** Hahaha, yes, I could barely write after reading that blog post by him. I bet you're a good writer! I'll look over your stories later! [Haymitch! I blame you.]

**Guest- **Yup, like the movie, but not _exactly . . ._

**morbid bookworm- **(Love the username) I guess I just overestimated. The rating is for the whole story not just individual chapters. The language isn't going to be vulgar or anything . . . just bad. [Annabeth, you in trouble . . .]

**Chenoamisae- **You have forced me to remember how to spell your username and your reviews always make me laugh. I had a mini-heart attack when you pointed that out, but I fixed it. Thanks :-)

**Alrighty, next time I update you'll see Percy POV, so get ready for that. 3,471 words and nine pages. Yikes. **

**Until next time readers! Please review and point out my mistakes!**

**~Isabella (the weirdo)**


	4. I Meet Jamie Cray

_Hello, Percy POV as I promised. I wrote this all in one night last night. I was watching something on the History Channel about Odysseus and his adventure back home to his wife Penelope from the Trojan War and it kept thinking about the PJO series. It was funny._

_And I think Rick mentioned that Annabeth was modeled after Atlanta. So I looked up Atlanta and it said that Atlanta's father wanted her to marry and she did not so she struck up a deal with him: She would race the people that wanted to marry her. If they beat her then they married her. That kind of reminded me of how Percy and Annabeth race. But . . . Annabeth didn't decapitate Percy's head if he lost._

* * *

**Awesome People List (now at beginning of chapter):**

**Katerinagrey- **Thanks :-)

**annabethrules120- **Thanks :-)

**RedxxxRobin- **Hahahaha, yes. *Evilly taps fingers together*

**aleba- **Read to find out . . .

**Guest- **Thanks :-)

**Chenoamisae-** Thanks, Hahaha, yeah she got a nose job over night *sarcasm*

* * *

_Now, read on._

* * *

I collapse on the couch and try to straighten my thoughts. Why are her eyes bothering me so much? The last time I saw grey eyes was through a flower bouquet in the elevator and that woman was a maid so there's no possible way that could be Jamie. I laugh at the thought.

The flat screen television in on ESPN and as much as I like March Madness Gabe wore out ESPN for me a long time. I flip through the channels: News—boring, _Adventure Time with Finn & Jake_—no, just, no. A history special on Odysseus and Penelope—eh, not now. CMT—maybe . . . No. Finally, I come upon the FX movie channel and click on it. It's a movie called _Maid in Manhattan_. A kid is making a big speech about second chances and stuff like that at some press conference. The man at the podium looks at the kid and they both dart out of the room.

That's when Thalia jumps on the fluffy couch beside me, grabs the remote, and changes it to wrestling. That's her thing to watch. I can see why, with all of the violence and crap. She has blue eyes, short black hair and a little brother that's a bellhop at this hotel. "What was that for? I wanted to see the ending of that!"

"Chill, Perseus," she said. "_Maid in Manhattan_? It has like five minutes left and it's an unbelievably crappy movie."

"You are the only assistant that I have ever had that calls me by my first name," I say.

"That's why I'm your best," she says and I roll my eyes.

"What's that movie about anyway?"

"Rent it one day and you'll find out."

"You can't just let me watch the last five minutes?"

"Men," she mutters. "What's wrong with them? Watching the last five minutes of a movie they know nothing about . . ."

"Hey, then why don't you go in your own suite and—"

"Shut it, Perseus. My TV is smaller than yours," she says.

"Watch it, I might fire you," I say.

Thalia laughs before saying, "You're not going to fire me, Mr. Jackson."

That's true. I'm not going to fire her. She's the best assistant I'll ever have. She makes sure I make it to all my press conferences and spell/grammar checks all of my campaign speeches . . . I wouldn't ever fire her.

. . .

I spend the rest of the day talking to Grover about my speech at the Blind Center's Benefit next week. As much as I like Grover, he worries too much . . . about _everything_. He's thin and his curly hair is brown with goaty look to his face (sorry G-man).

At 12 A.M. I go back to my own suite and fall asleep on the couch searching for _Maid in Manhattan _again. I wake up to the TV blaring Kelly Rowland. The credits are rolling for a movie . . . God damn it, _Maid in Manhattan_. I frown and turn off the TV. Sunlight streams through the windows that I didn't bother to drape last night. I stand and walk into a bedroom: Gold and white everything—not my favorite colors, but the bed looks comfy.

Right when I get in the bed, someone knocks on the door. Honestly, I don't want to answer it, but I get out of the warm covers and answer the door.

Yes, of course, it's Thalia.

"What could you possibly want?" I ask.

"Well, _Mr. Jackson_, it is 12:30 and your second date with Jamie Cray starts in fifteen minutes exactly." I close the door and race to bathroom. I take a shower, shave, put on clothes. And today, I decide to even wear my orange tee shirt and jeans. I comb my hair, unsuccessfully. I'm still surprised that I slept that long. Probably stress or a dream I can't remember now.

I make sure I have my phone, card for my suite, and my wallet. I knock on the door and she answers, but holds up a finger at me while she talks on the phone. She walks into another room, but I can still hear her talking.

" . . . Drew, honey, I swear, I have no idea where I was yesterday. I woke up in _East Harlem_! Can you believe that . . . ?"

She says 'East Harlem' like it is some type of terrible disease.

"Well, I woke up in a torn-up house on the couch. This woman sat drinking tea in front of me, well, not directly in front of me; she was sitting on a chair across the room, drinking tea. I freaked out, but then she told me that she found me drunk and groaning on the steps of her house. I left and called my chauffer."

Without saying thanks? I think.

"Yeah, I mean, look, Drew, yesterday morning I went and bought whiskey, like I do every morning and then I blacked out. I swear getting in the car is the last thing I remember. Hey, I could have gone on that date with that Jackson guy and wouldn't have remembered."

My heart sinks. A thought comes to me: She didn't seem drunk at all.

I mean, in my opinion, I had a great day yesterday. I even took her to my favorite ice cream place. That's my comfort ice cream place.

I start to turn around to leave, when I hear footsteps. The woman wears pajamas and a tee shirt. She has aspirin in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She looks like she's going through a bad hangover. Blonde hair falls on her shoulders, unlike yesterday when her hair was in a pony tail, but what shocks me the most is that she has blue eyes. Not grey.

"And you are . . . ?" she says, leisurely sitting herself down on the couch.

"Oh, um, do I have the wrong room?" I ask, slowly backing toward the door.

"This is Jamie Cray's room. Are you alright in there?" she asks.

"No, uh, I'm Percy Jackson and I went on a date with a girl yesterday and she, um, is supposed to be in this room. Not to be rude or anything, but I don't think you're Jamie Cray," I say.

"Of course, I am Jamie Cray. Who else would be?"

I'm about to respond, when the door opens. I glance over quickly, but it's just a maid. She's brown haired that's cut choppily and braided; another maid follows, but I don't pay attention to her. I do notice that the other maid is blonde. I automatically think of the maid in the elevator. Two words flash through my mind: _grey eyes_. I quickly brush it off because I'm still confused with the woman sitting in front of me.

"I don't know, I sort of—" I am quickly cut off by a man coming in the door—a butler. He is large, burly, Asian man that is no older than me. When he walks in, he bumps into the desk beside the door sending a metal water vase to the floor.

"Sorry, uh, sorry," he says. His metal name tag reads Frank. "I came to tell the, uh, housekeep something, uh sorry."

I try not to look surprised as he stumbles to the kitchen area where the maids are. I hear all three of them in start to argue.

The woman that calls herself Jamie groans, "Migraine. Headache. God so help me."

"Will you all shut yourselves up? I am have a fucking hangover!" this woman yells and suddenly they all fall silent and the one with the braids steps out.

"Hello, Jamie Cray," she glances over to me skeptically, "I am Piper McLean and—"

"McLean, like, Tristan McLean?" the fake Jamie asks. "I'm sorry to hear about—"

"Yes,_ 'I'm sorry to hear about your loss and that you went bankrupt and was forced to become a maid.'_" She quotes. It's clear that she gets that a lot. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, let's try this again without your fan-girling over my late father. Hello, Jamie Cray. I am Piper McLean and I will be your maid at your stay at this hotel. Also, Frank Zhang will be your butler. Mr. Jackson: same goes for you—get used to seeing us wash your clothes and your sheets and walk in on you sleeping with whoever you are sleeping with this week because it's bound to happen."

Piper the maid says it so calm it scares me and the fact that she says it all in one breath. I'm slightly offended with the whole sleeping with someone new each week. I've only slept with someone once.

Anyway, it leaves us both a little speechless.

"Hold on a second, uh, Jamie." I follow Piper back into the kitchen.

When I'm in there, I notice the blonde is making coffee with her back turned to me. She looks familiar, but I dismiss it, focused on finding the real Jamie.

"Hey, Frank, um, could you find me someone here in this hotel? You seem like a nice guy and that you know the place well: my height, blonde hair, grey eyes, please?" I ask and fumble for my card and hand it to him. Before I leave the kitchen, I see Frank's eyes widen as he turns to the blonde making the coffee. I ignore it though.

. . .

A breath of fresh air, yes, that's what I need. Some time to think. I step outside into the cold spring air and around the corner to the subway station to stop and get ice cream from the ice cream shop. I dip down the stairs and walk onto the platform.


	5. He Knows My Name

_Hello, everyone. I hated the idea I had so I deleted it and am just continuing it without the robbery, but I'll put it in at the end of the story for a sort of "Extras." Good? Okay, good. I'm not responding to the reviews because the last chapter didn't happen. Um enjoy! Oh and PS: I do want some sort of action so expect a teensy bit of that._

* * *

"Annabeth, what is that all about?!" Frank exclaims as we walk out of Cray's suite.

"Shut it, Frank," I say. "You have no idea."

"Yes, in fact, I do have an idea. I have a very large idea what's going on!" Frank says. I drag my feet on the beige carpet and try to think of a lie to tell him. I really don't want him to know. I don't want anyone to know. God, I don't even want to know.

"What very large idea do you have?" Hazel walks up from behind us and leans against Frank. She's small, with curly brown hair. I've always liked Hazel. She kind, but determined at the same time.

I shoot Frank a glance before he answers, "That Leo needs to stop kicking refrigerators," he blurts and I bury my face in my hands. Nice, I think.

"Oh," Hazel says. Her brow furrows. "Annabeth, Piper, are you guys heading to the break room?"

"Yeah," Piper responds.

"We'll come with. Right Frank?" Hazel loops her arm within Frank's and he blushes. I give a small smile and take the maid's elevator to the Basement with them.

"Can this rickety, old thing hold this many people?" Piper wonders aloud as the elevator descends down further.

"Let's hope so," Frank said. He fidgets out of Hazel's grip. Workers can't fraternize with each other; it's against the rules to. That's why Reyna and Jason keep their relationship under wraps from Chiron and Mr. D. I've never even given a thought about any guys here. I mean, a majority of them are good looking, _but not as good as Percy Jackson_, my mind adds. I shake my head.

Frank jokes about the Mr. D and about how ridiculous his new shirt is. We're all laughing by the time we enter the Lunch Room, but all smiles fades when I pull open the door.

There stands Jason and Reyna in a heated argument while Leo cringes in the corner.

"What is WRONG with you?" Reyna pounds her fist on the table. We all just stand there and wait for them to notice us but they don't.

"Look, I just wanted to do something nice for you—"

"Jason, do you love me or not?" she extends her hands out for emphasis.

He doesn't respond. She shoulders her bag and turns—that's when she notices us.

She opens her mouth to say something, but she just closes it and pushes through us. I expect Jason to run after her and yell, "Wait, Reyna!" but he doesn't. He just leans against the wall with his arms crossed in silence. I look over to Piper and her mouth hangs open and she blinks.

"We should go somewhere else," Hazel suggests. "How about that vegetarian buffet down the street?"

"Hazel, let's be honest. Who has the money to pay for that?" I say. I don't mean to be rude, but it's true. I'm nine hundred dollars in debt and really can't afford to buy a twenty dollar meal.

"You're right," Frank agrees. "There's pizza in the 'frig." So we all just kind of stand there and look at each other as if we're mentally talking to each other. I shrug and open the refrigerator door, pull out the pizza and sit down at a table big enough for all of us. I start to microwave the pizza when Frank, Piper and Hazel sit down at the table. Leo's walking over to us when Jason stops him and says words to low for me to here, but I know they're serious because Leo stands frozen for awhile before he sits down and starts complaining about how long it took to get the refrigerator working again. Jason walks out the door.

We talk about anything that doesn't involve romance and drama. I'm actually having a good time until I remember that we have to get back to work at 1:45. It's 1:30, but for a moment I don't care. Is it bad that I want to forget? Is it bad that even though the job pays enough to get by I don't want to pick up after people anymore? I mean, who wants to be a maid? Picking up after a bunch of snobby, ungrateful people that if you were lie dying the middle of the street they wouldn't help you. I'd like to see Mr. D put that on the job description. If I asked him to he probably would. I sigh before pushing the plate away from me.

If I even happened to get a firm to look at my résumé, they'd take one look at where I'm working now and dismiss it automatically because who wants a former maid to design buildings? She'd probably end up cleaning the tables instead of doing her job, I think jokingly. I went to college and majored in architecture, but _why _didn't _any _of the firms hire me? I'm good at what I do (or what I want to do)! Why can't I just get the job and become rich and famous and stay at million dollar hotels and have people clean up after me while I bathe in money?

Like Percy Jackson! He has money and a life and probably thousands of other women that want him. I'm sitting here while all these people around me are involved in romance problems that _they can solve _while I'm here liking some guy that's out of my reach and I'm lying to. I like Percy. Fine. I said it. There. You got me. Yippee. I like some guy who is virtually untouchable.

I'm losing it.

I really need some sleep.

. . .

All of us worked hard the rest of the day only to have Chiron say he needs us for another two hours. He apologized and said that there would he wouldn't be paying us for it. I clench my fists. I can barely stay awake. My eyes close every few seconds, but Piper shakes me awake—something I resent and thank her for.

I head down the steps to get to reach my subway in time. It's nine o'clock and the sky is already black. No stars shine because of the city lights. The subway station is empty—just me and the flickering light bulbs. I check my watch and wonder what time I might make it home. Ten? Then that gives me seven hours to sleep. Great. Perfect.

I take a step forward, but to only be pulled back by someone. I expect to see Percy maybe, but I turn my head and see a man wearing a mask holding a gun. My instincts kick him and I jab my heel in his foot, but he only shoves me up against the wall.

"Money, now."

"I—I don't have any. I swear, I'm—I'm a maid. I don't make much." He jabs the gun in my ribs. I take a sharp breath. "I'm—I'm serious."

"You're lying. I know your lying."

"Just let go," I say. "And back away. I have a wallet, but there's nothing in it but a dollar or two. Take it. Don't shoot." I move my hand to reach in my coat pocket, but he's too quick. He takes my hand slams it into the wall and I heard something pop. I'm pretty sure he broke something. He lets my hand fall to the side and it aches. He reaches in my pocket and takes out the wallet with one hand. With difficulty he opens it up and a dollar bill falls out.

"I know you have more," he grunts. "Rich women like you always have money."

"I'm _not _rich. How many times do I have to tell you I'm a God damn maid?!" I know giving him any sort of attitude won't help. He throws me down on the steps face forward and I feel something else break. A rib or two?

He looms over me, looking as if he's ready to kick me, but that's when it happens. I see someone run up and tackle the guy. It takes me a minute to realize who it is. Percy. I breathe a sigh of relief, but then I scowl.

Percy knocks the gun out of guy's hand and it skids into the subway tracks. Percy seems to be winning, but I still help him kick the guy in the side. The guy pushes Percy off of him and sends him sliding into a pole. He picks me up only to slam me down on the ground again, but his time I hit my head on the floor and my sight doubles. I can barely see Percy stand again and knock him unconscious.

He kneels over me, "Fancy seeing you here. Are you alive?"

"No, I'm as dead as my pet turtle I had in second grade."

"I'm glad you still have a sense of humor," he says. He pulls out his phone with one hands and struggles to dial a number.

"Use your other hand," I say.

"That arm's broken," he responds. That guy was brutal, I think as I glance over to him. Percy's voice is ragged as if he got hit in the head too. He tells the police what happened as he sat down beside me. I lose consciousness for awhile, but I awake to Percy holding his arms around me.

"You . . . creep," I whisper before I slip again.

The next time I wake up I'm in a hospital. Percy's in the bed next to me. I want to reach over and slap the shit out of him. I could have handled that! He didn't need to go all knight and shining armor on me.

"Hello, I've been up for hours," he says with a mouth full of Jello. He scraps his spoon to get the left over Jello that he missed.

"You little . . ." My voice trails off because I can't think of a strong enough word to call him. That's when I realize my head is throbbing.

"Hey, you should be thanking me. I saved your life."

"No! I could have handled that!"

"I wouldn't yell if I were you," he says calmly. "We both have concussions." He's right because my head hurts more than ever. I reach up to rub my temples when I realize that hand is in a cast.

"Are you kidding me?" I look at my hand. "What else could be broken?"

"Well, you have a concussion and a fractured hand along with two broken ribs," he says as he sat his empty Jello cup on his tray. "I learned that from doctor Apollo. That's a funny name. Don't you think?"

A gave him an annoyed stare.

"Oh, you know what else I learned? I learned you're name is actually Annabeth Chase. Care for an explanation?"

Shit, I'm screwed.


	6. I Am Offered Help

**Author's Note: **_Sorry for the long-time-no-update. I'm wo rking on a Luke Castellan fic and with school and the internet . . . it's really hard to update frequently. This is really short because it's just kind of informational and I have something cool planned for the next chapter. Okay, enjoy and please review! _

~*~I~*~

Doctor Apollo saves the day by swooping in and bringing in three trainee nurses. It's convenient, but the attention makes me uncomfortable. I stare at my tray of food and try to ignore Percy's questionable gaze. I feel his eyes on me, as his unanswered question hangs in the air, but I can't get myself to look up. The trainees scribble down notes on their clipboards, while Dr. Apollo makes sure all the monitors are working well. My head spins and I become more confused. It hurts to breathe and panic builds up inside of me. Percy's eyes are still on me and I'm trying my best to ignore them, because I'm getting dizzier and dizzier by the second and he's not helping at all. I carefully lie back down on the hospital bed and turn to the side, careful not to disturb my already aching ribs.

"Looking good, Ms. Chase," Dr. Apollo says. I cringe as I can practically _feel _Percy raise his eyebrow. "Now for you Mr. Jackson." He makes small talk while he's working. "Heard your campaign is going well?" "Yes, yes, yes. That's—that's good." "Any children? Have a wife?" "No? Of course not. Me? You ask?" (Even though Percy didn't ask at all.) "Well, I'm happily single, but I have tons of children."

I am afraid Dr. Apollo may be overwhelming Percy, but I don't tell him to shut up. My head will probably explode if I do. How am I going to get myself out of this stupid mess? _There is no possible way you can fix this. You can't even pay for the damn hospital bill! _I don't know, honestly. I can't even work my way out of this. My monthly-check is three times smaller than the bill, probably and even if I work, but, even then, _I can't even do my job the way I'm supposed to. It'll hurt too much. _I shouldn't be worrying about that. If I've taken a stab in the arm then I can handle some broken ribs.

The feeling of dread piles up as Dr. Apollo is leaving the room with the trainees. I know, _I know, _Percy is opening his mouth to talk to me when Apollo stops and turns around. "You have a visitor. She's worried about you." He walks out of the room and Percy doesn't even have time to think before a girl with shopping bags from designer labels comes rushing in with heels in hand. At first, I thought it might be Piper to come and visit me, but it was the total and exact opposite.

Mrs. Beauregard-Beckendorf throws all of her bags on the ground and tosses her shoes on the floor. I carefully scoot over so she doesn't sit on me as she climbs up on the spot next to me. Her black hair flows perfectly down her shoulders and her blue eyes sparkle while I know I look like shit. I turn on my back again, but I don't sit up. My depth-perception is off and I'm seeing two Silenas.

"Mrs. Beauregard, what are you . . . doing here?" I lightly rub my forehead with my free hand.

"One second!" she answers. She stands and runs to the other side of the room where Percy is. She reaches forward to pull the curtain around my side of the room. She sits back down on the spot beside me and I want to scrunch my eyebrows, but it hurts my head too much so I stare at her with a blank face. "I heard about what happened and . . . I wanted to come down and make sure you're okay and—"

My spirits lift a little. _She came over here, just to see me?_

"But I'm your maid!" I half-whisper, half yell.

"Shhh," she says. "That's not what I mainly came over here for."

My heart sinks a little, but I already knew. No one would ever love me enough to stay.

"You have a"—her voice sinks lower than a whisper—"thing for Mr. Jackson over there. I saw you guys in Central Park one day, but you weren't dressed like you and I knew something was up. I did some snooping around and I figured it out."

I stare at her, horrified and embarrassed at the same time.

"But I love love and I like things that have do to with love and I'm going to get you out of this. I'm going to pay your hospital bill. My cousin is an editor at New York Times and he says he's going to do his best to stop articles from being printed about you two. I doubt you'll be out of the hospital in time to see the TV news about it, so I think you'll be okay."

I thank her over and over again and she waves a hand through the air as if dismissing my thanks. "You don't have to say thank you, but I do want something in return."

I wait in uncomfortable silence.

"I want you to make sure you get him. That's all I ask in return. No money, no anything. But you'll have to figure something else out eventually. You can't live a lie, Annabeth Chase."

~*~II~*~

I am checked out of the hospital three days later. There's nothing the doctors can do about my ribs, so I'll just have to be careful about everything. Every breath hurts physically and I don't know if I'll make it at work.

Rain sprinkles down on all of New York in a delightful, springtime manner. The streets are busy and crowded and the winds flutter around gracefully, like children playing. I cringe again and again as I open the door to the hotel and step inside. I have no umbrella so I'm drenched. It was cold outside, but I was suddenly filled with heat as I stepped into the lobby, the heater was on full blast and I don't mind at all. A few of my coworkers recognize me when I round the corner for the room, even in my jeans and coat. Some wave and some avoid my eye contact, but I don't care. Not one bit.

I stand outside the door for a few moments, wondering if I really should do this or not. Before I can reach the door to knock, it swings open. Standing a few inches taller than me with a terrible case of bed-head and marvelous sea-greens eyes that don't fail to captivate me. The bathrobe he wears is wide open, revealing his blue-striped pajamas and, it's not very romantic, but I don't care. Not one bit.

His gaze is so strong and powerful—I cannot look away. It entices me to the point where I want to say something, but I can't because my mouth is paralyzed. Everything is paralyzed. I can't move a single inch.

Moments pass and I finally open my mouth to say something, but he—he swoops down and kisses me. I kiss so strong, one that I can pull from my past. I haven't been kissed like that in ages. I can't remember and I don't care. He grabs me from the waist and pulls me close to him. I dismiss the pain in my ribs, for I don't care and place a hand on his face and kiss him harder. I don't want to let go. I never want to let go. His hand trails to my waist again and spins us inside the doorway. He slams the door shut with his foot and doesn't let go of me like I hoped.

~*~III~*~


	7. I Finally Remember

Author's Note: Holy freaking shit, it's been way too long. I don't really know what's been up. Oh my gods, I'm sorry. I hope you guys are still interested.

We didn't end up on the bed. We ended up on the couch, Percy playing with my hair, laughing, talking all night long. It had started out with me pushing away and telling him I came here to talk. He immediately sat down and listened. I told him that I was kind of a double for Jamie. While she was drunk, lolling about, I was doing her charity work and dates and whatever else she didn't want to do. The lie worked for now, but I was still worried about it catching up to me in some horrible, embarrassing way. My hands shook as I told him more about my life and how I wanted to be an architect, and how I grew up.

It's six AM when he finally asks the question I had been nervously waiting for the whole night. "Do you actually really like me?" He sputters the words out quick and fast, as if he wanted to get it over with. I look up. His black hair is a mess and his eyes sparkle – like usual. His eyes search around the room, anywhere but my face. When I don't answer immediately, his fingers leave my hair. I sigh and sit up right. I try to not cry out from the pain in my ribs, but I let out a gasp. Percy notices and he pulls me in his lap before I can move again. He presses his forehead against my own.

"I . . . I'm not sure." The words leave without my brain processing them and I feel stupid, but I didn't want to tell him because I don't want him to think I have feelings for him – when I really do. I don't want to lead him down that misty, sunset-y path that is my life. But then again, the truth is, I already I have. He began following me down that path when he saw me in the elevator or when he pulled me in for a kiss hours ago. I want to lead him out. I want to tell him to leave, but the mist has turned to rain and all I want to do is kiss him.

He pulls me out of my thoughts, by more sputtered out words, "But, but . . . why? Why did you come . . . if you don't like me?" Hot, white frustration pools through my veins, and I want to pull away and yell at him for being so blind. I almost clench my teeth, but he'll notice and I don't want him too. I relax, and he runs his hands up and down my arms when he feels my muscles un-tense.

"I . . ." My voice trails off and I don't know what quite to say. "I do, I mean, I do like you. I like you a lot, but we can't do this. We can't. I can't." I jump up and slip on my Adidas before he can catch me by the wrist. I run through the door and slam it. And even though I know they have security cameras and guards throughout the hotel, I keep running and running, down the stairs, instead of the elevator. I'm on my last flight of stairs when I miss a step and fall right into Piper who lets out a little scream.

"Oh God, Annabeth, what are you . . . You wouldn't answer your door, so I figured you were already –"

I fall to my knees before I can finish, clutching my ribs. "God! Piper! I have the week off!"

"Yeah, but why?"

"I got mugged –"

"But, what are you doing here?"

"Can you stick to one subject, please." I stood again and leaned against the wall with the support of the rail.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, but what are you doing here?"

"I spent the night with . . ." She already knows who I'm talking about even before I finish. "And I called it off . . . Whatever was there originally, which was nothing. Of course." Piper eyes me warily. She bites her lip and leans on the wall next to me.

"Just go get rest, okay?" I'll see you tonight." She seems angry, when she walks away and leaves me standing there with the flickering lights. On the way out, I pass Jason, who knows well enough to not even ask.

~*~II~*~

I spend the last few days of my week off watching old TV shows and doing the dishes that have piled up. I try not to think about Percy, who is now lost and alone in my misty path that I have deserted him in. I imagine him lost and confused, looking all over for me. I close my eyes and fall asleep.

~*~III~*~

The room I'm in is crowded with people shuffling around and conversing with the people near them. I sit alone, swirling the clear liquid drink in front of me. The bar is doused in a yellow light and my vision blurs around the edges. I don't notice the tears that run down my face – Just the slow swirling pool of alcohol. This day couldn't have been worse. The only perk was being able to drag myself to the barstool and drink myself to death, before I have to start working at that stupid hotel tomorrow.

"You know, usually, people on their twenty-first birthday like to get wasted with friends – not alone." I hear a voice startle me out of my daze. The voice is smooth and deep and clearly male's. I don't bother to look up. I stare at his sneakers instead. He clears his throat, and awkwardly waits for me to respond. When I don't, he takes a seat on the stool next to mine. "You look like you've had a bad day."

"No shit," I say, rubbing my eyes, and raking my fingers down my face. He waves the bartender over. "I don't want another drink." He ignores me, and orders a Shirley Temple.

"I said no—"

"You could just say thank you. It won't hurt, I promise." I can practically feel him wearing a sarcastic smile.

"Thanks," I slur. _Am I really that drunk?_

"I don't know what you want, but whatever it is, I don't have it, okay?" Why am I still talking? This is so embarrassing.

"Let's go for a walk. How about that?" He leans in closer. What's he getting at?

"Sure," I say. I need one anyway. "But, you could be like a kidnapper or murderer or something . . ." He ignores my doubt and helps me off the barstool and into the streets of New York. A man walking by bumps into my shoulder and nearly knocks me down, but that guy steadies me and we walk. "Can we go get coffee?" I ask.

"Come on," he laughs, pulling down the sidewalk, weaving through crowds of people to Happy's Diner. When we get there, it takes my slow brain a minute to realize why it's empty. It's one AM, and this place isn't exactly the most popular joint to go in on a Friday night. He guides me to a booth by my shoulders and we sit opposite each other by a window.

"Two coffees, please. Black."

"Are you drunk too?" I ask.

He laughs again before nodding. We spend the rest of the night talking and laughing until we cry. Sometimes, the waitress has to tell us to calm down. I don't remember what we talk about. It's probably one of the best nights I'd had in a very long time.

The memory skips around a bit, and suddenly, I'm being pushed up against my apartment door while he's kissing my neck while my lazy hands move under his shirt.

"We shouldn't," he says. I shake my head and smile.

"We should," I persuade.

"We definitely should," he agrees. We both laugh, as I awkwardly fumble around for my key.

~*~IV~*~

I shoot up into a sitting position, gasping in pain for my ribs and rubbing my eyes.

It was him. It was Percy Jackson.

I jump up and stagger for my bus pass. It's only noon, the bus should be here in ten minutes meaning . . . If I run I can make it before the next "meeting" with Jaime.

I slam the my door, and I run.


	8. Epilogue

**Author's Note:** I kind of just want to get this story over with, because I don't like it anymore and I'm not really putting any effort into it anymore. It's annoying, and I want to start my new stories! I don't know how well they're turn out or do, _**so I want you to go to my user profile where I have descriptions of ideas I want to write and tell me which one I should write first in review or PM!**_ don't know when my next story will be out because I have a lot of ideas and I'm still trying to decide what to write first so that's why I need your help! So … yeah … I hope you enjoy the ending! _**PLEASE REVIEW.**_

This the end! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing!

The run to the bus stop is impossibly far for me in my condition. I double over in pain multiple times before being able to get up on my feet again. The streets of Harlem are crowded so full I can barely keep up with the people going in the other direction. I push forward. My crappy broken ribs make it hard to breathe, and by the end of the first block, I'm staggering, trying not to grab onto random people.

I'm such a wreck, I think as I have to lean against a pole somewhere on the third block. But he's worth it. He's always been worth it. So I take slow steps forward to the forth block. To where the bus will take me to him waits.

About a half a block away, I see the bus at the bus stop, boarding people. Oh shit, I think, as I dart across the street and do my best to run toward it. But, it's driving away right as practically drag myself to it only a few feet away. I about throw myself on the ground in a fit when drives away and I know I'm stuck and I can't catch a ride with anyone because I don't have any friends that don't work at the hotel and I can't hitchhike because it's way too dangerous—

My thoughts stop reeling when I see a man sitting on the waiting bench, one ankle resting on his knee. "Percy!" I gasp out before I stagger over to the bench. His eyes pop out when he sees me and he immediately jumps up to help. He takes a hold of my arms and leads me over to where he sits on the bench.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, as I sink into the bench. I release a moan in relief.

"I could ask you the same thing," he says. I notice that he's wearing a nice suit, with nice shoes and – _What is he doing over here? _

"It's _my_ neighborhood," I snap, but he doesn't respond. He stares into the closed down shop in front of us.

"Annabeth," he says with finality in his voice, "Jamie figured it out. She saw you running from the room and the clothes and – you aren't a double for her? Are you? She doesn't even know you, does she?"

I stare at him with my mouth open wide enough for him to finally turn to me. "You lied to me, and then you lied to me, and then you lied to me again!" He looks more like a sad puppy rather than a disappointed senator whose career has gone up in smoke. "They're going to fire you. When you come in for work on Monday, they're totally going to fire you. Jamie's publicist is all riled and—" He reaches across his own lap and pulls out a newspaper. "Tomorrow's edition. Front page!"

There's a picture with me out with Percy in Jamie's clothes. Laughing and talking. With BAMBOOZLED as a headline.

Tomorrow everyone will know.

Tomorrow the news's Cutest Newest Couple will turn out to be fake.

Tomorrow I will be publically mortified and nothing's going to stop it.

"Not that I care that Jamie is going to be shamed more than she already is. But, really? Why did you lie?"

And then suddenly, all of my repressed feelings are spilling out and I can't believe I even said half of them. "Lacy had convinced me of trying on her clothes because she said that she would watch Matt and Bobby for me if I did and I did and then you showed up and I remembered you from the elevator and I was too mortified to say, 'No. Nevermind. You got the wrong girl.' But then you were really nice and just a total opposite of what I expected you to be and things got complicated."

His face flushes before he answers. "I don't care that you're a maid, Annabeth. I like you"—He flushes redder—"for you, you know?"

He pauses.

"To be honest, I never really liked being a politician. It was mainly my dad's idea. I've always liked ocean animals and stuff. I don't really care about my job or the election. I was kind of hoping I would get caught up in some scandal before I could get elected."

I frown, pursing my lips. "Really?"

"Really."

It's quiet between us for awhile and the noise of Harlem floods our ears.

"She's not going to press charges or anything, so you're good. Except, you're going to lose your job and I just dropped out of the race. My dad will probably disown me or something." He pauses. "Where do we go from here?"

"I don't know. Percy, I came here to find you, to tell you about . . . my past . . . our—"

"I don't care about your past. I care about your future and what you're going to do after you get fired and I get kicked out. What are we going to do?" I look in those sad green eyes and decide I agree with him. Our past certainly doesn't matter now.

His eyes brighten and he smiles. "Come away with me. I know a beach town on Long island and—"

I know the idea that he's getting at and I say, "I barely know you!" but I'm smiling and he's smiling back and as bad as things seem, they couldn't be any better.

"Well, then, get to know me." He gives me a smug look on his face. Victory.

And that's where we start.


End file.
